


Infernum Nugati

by signal_boi



Series: The Prophet [3]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Monster Bendy, Other, Pentagrams, Rituals, Sacrifice, angry joey, bendy's there for like two seconds, he's a monster tho, he's gonna die of ink poisoning, more ink drinking, not really - Freeform, people die, reader-chan why are you going along with this, sacrifice her, sammy's getting worse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 04:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10734576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signal_boi/pseuds/signal_boi
Summary: Are you and Sammy official? Technically. He certainly thinks so. Enough so that it's time for you to lend a helping hand for your first ritual: a sacrifice. Y'know, the kind of sacrifice where you drug one of your co-workers, tie them to a chair in a pentagram, force them to drink some ink, drink some yourself, then watch the show. Why are you going along with all this?//Honestly i'd be afraid of telling the guy no





	Infernum Nugati

**Author's Note:**

> more ink drinking. sacrifice. death. melting. everything that makes my heart flutter
> 
> are any y'all translating this latin crap? i'm a clever piece of shit if i do say so myself

Joey wouldn’t have it. You tried to call off sick, tried to explain what happened, and he wouldn’t have any of it.  _ You’re coming into work,  _ he said.  _ You and Sammy were on a date, right? He was out as late as you were. He’s here and he’s fine, either come or you’re getting a mark.  _ Stupid studio, stupid job, stupid demon your sort-of boyfriend had gone and gotten obsessed with. 

 

The ink really hadn’t gone over well with you. Sammy might’ve been used to it, but you were still feeling the effects the next morning. But like you’d promised, you didn’t say a word to Joey. Tried to pass it off as simple pain and stomach sickness. No deal. 

 

Ruth, another animator in your department, caught you just before you fell face first through the front door of the studio. “Good golly, are you alright? I saw you stumbling up the sidewalk. You feel a little warm, why didn’t you stay home?” She let you lean on her shoulder while she glanced around for a chair. She pulled over a chair from the lobby and lowered you into it. “You look right ossified, hun, but worse. Lemme go get Joey, alright? You stay here.” 

 

She walked off towards the director’s office, where Joey usually was. The pain still in your abdomen seemed to amplify at the thought of Joey actually seeing how sick you were. He’d either chew you out for faking, or get flustered and yell at you for not convincing him to let you stay home. Either way, it’d be your fault. 

 

Lethargically, you lifted your head up to look down the hall and watch for Ruth and Joey’s return, but all you saw was a Bendy cut-out which had mysteriously appeared, much like the few last night in the orchestra room. 

 

“Goodness, I’m sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t have given you so much. I didn’t anticipate such a harsh reaction.” Sammy spoke from the hall on the right, and in a moment, he was standing in front of you. “This won’t do.” He whispered, darting his eyes from one hallway to the other. “Come with me. I’ll carry you. Joey can’t see you like this, he’ll  _ know _ .” 

 

He cautiously picked you up and held you against his chest, bridal style. For having another person’s weight to worry about, he was swift as usual down the stairwell. He shoved Wally out of the way with his shoulder, who promptly called out as to why Sammy was carrying a nearly-passed out you into his office. As per usual, Sammy ignored the janitor. 

 

“Easy now,” he whispered, lying you flat on the ground. He took off the top portion of his suit and his vest, and bunched them together as a sort of pillow, then adjusted you against it so you were sitting up against the wall. “I should have something for the pain in my desk… I have a few morphine cubes. Are you allergic?” You managed to shake your head, and he reacted quickly. He held one of the cubes to your mouth, then a glass. “This is water, I promise.”

 

Once the cube had dissolved and the water eased your throat, you promptly fell asleep against the wall of his office. 

 

* * *

 

“Darling, my shift’s over. You’ve been asleep awhile, it’s time to wake up.” Lazily, you opened your eyes, and Sammy’s face was about three inches from yours. You took a deep breath and yawned, then took a few seconds to adjust to your new surroundings. Once you realized you were in Sammy’s office, you realized that the pain was gone. 

 

“Why am I in your office?” Your words were still slurred as you shook off the rest of your tiredness. “Wait, what? Your shift’s over? What time is it?”

 

Sammy moved his sleeve to check his watch, then shrugged. “About eight o’clock. I’ve a few more things to attend to, and I’d absolutely love for you to stay and assist me, but I understand if you’d rather go back to your desk. You did miss a day of work, after all.”

 

Sleeping through an entire ten hours wasn’t uncommon for you, especially while unwell. You were more concerned about Joey. “Did Drew ever find me down here? What did you do about him?” 

 

“Joey came looking for you, but he never made it past the fourth floor. I’m not at liberty to explain why. One day, they’ll obey him as well, but not today.” You didn’t bother asking what he was talking about. He’d gone on for so long the night before about demons and transmutations and the ink housing a  _ soul of the damned  _ and all sorts of other religious mumbo-jumbo. But last night, you’d also come to a very important conclusion. 

 

Sammy was important to you. You hadn’t just accepted his invite to a date out of the blue, you’d had a thing for him for awhile. When he’d asked you to join and spread his  _ faith,  _ you told yourself,  _ one day, he’ll snap out of it. He’ll see the light and he’ll realize that this is all a little bonkers. He’s just stressed.  _

 

“Since I’m feeling a lot better than I was, I can come with you if you’d like. What do you have left to do?”

 

There was a point in time where Sammy’s smirks could scare the shit out of you, but not anymore. He’d expressed his fondness for you and he’d promised never to lay a finger on you, no matter the circumstance. (Unless he had permission, perhaps in a bedroom sort of setting, but that’s neither here nor there.) “I’d like you to accompany me for your first ritual. If you’re truly in this with me, you need to know how things operate. Come, Ruth’s still here. She’ll begin packing to leave in a matter of minutes.” 

 

“Uh… why do we need Ruth?” He didn’t answer, but instead beckoned you to step out of his office. He shut the door and locked it from the outside, then kept a brisk pace towards the stairs. How he wasn’t winded after climbing up  _ nine flights,  _ you were unsure. Two flights could’ve knocked you out, but he kept going. You tried to follow closely as he navigated through the halls towards the animation department, but once the two of you had arrived outside the room where Ruth and a few others worked, he shushed you and slowed his pace. Sammy motioned for you to stay put, and once you’d nodded, he silently reached into his side satchel and pulled out a syringe. 

 

Your heart stopped when you figured out it was real. It was full of a clear liquid with lots of oxidation bubbles. Part of you wanted to scream, to get Ruth to turn around and notice the two of you; but the other part of you, the one that wanted to stay silent and stay on Sammy’s good side: that was the part that won. 

 

He crept behind your co-worker as quietly as humanly possible, and at the first opportunity, he stuck the needle into her jugular. It took a few moments for her to stop struggling, and you swore she’d looked you right in the eye during the one-sided scuffle. Sammy lifted her over his shoulder with ease, then motioned for you to get out of the way. 

 

“What the fuck have you done?” You whispered, fighting the urge to cry. “Sammy, what the actual fuck? You can’t just stab your co-workers and drag them off to who-knows-where! What if we get caught? Is she gonna wake up?” 

 

_ Shhhhhhhhhh.  _

 

The whole building had shushed you, not Sammy. It was too loud and powerful to have been Sammy.

 

“Thank you, my lord.” Sammy whispered in response. You felt all the blood in your body go cold, and from that moment on, it was difficult to move. This whole  _ faith  _ thing wasn’t a ruse. 

 

You hadn’t realized that he’d led you back down to the ninth floor. You’d been too caught up in your thoughts, ifs and buts about Bendy and his closest follower. He carried Ruth into the orchestra room, but this time, his sanctuary was already open. 

 

Sammy stepped into his sanctuary for just a moment, and returned with a full inkwell and a rather crude brush. “Would you like to begin helping?” Despite your obvious shaking, you nodded and took the tools from him. “I need you to paint a pentagram on the floor. Large enough to surround her.” 

 

While he sat the still unconscious Ruth into a chair and tied her down, you obeyed. You painted a pentagram. And a rather good one, too. The circle was perfect, the lines of the stars were straight. Even though you’d never drawn one in your life, it seemed natural. 

 

“It’s as if you were made to help me.” Sammy commented, pushing Ruth and her chair into the center of your pentagram. “Wake her, if you can. I’ll get the rest of the ink we need.” He took the brush and inkwell from your hands, presumably to put them back in their places in his sanctuary. But to wake Ruth? She’d been medicinally rendered unconscious. 

 

“How am I supposed to wake her up, Sammy? She’s practically in a coma,” You shouted. 

 

His laugh echoed out of the long sanctuary hall, and you were almost offended. “Ask for assistance. We’re doing this for him, he’ll likely help.” 

 

“Help? From whom?” As soon as you’d shut up, you heard a faint  _ click  _ behind you. You debated turning around, but eventually did, and made eye contact with another teleporting Bendy cut-out. “Oh. Of course. Uh…” Should it sound like a traditional prayer? Casual, maybe? “Bendy, my… uh, lord… could you, uh… wake Ruth up for me? Please?”

 

Instantly Ruth started coughing. Her eyes were bloodshot, and as soon as she’d noticed the chair, ropes, pentagram, and you, she was hysterical. 

 

“What in the world? Thank goodness, it’s you.” She got out before slipping into another coughing fit. “Don’t just stand there, help me out of this!” She struggled for a bit more, becoming increasingly more irritated with your lack of assistance. She stopped however, once Sammy emerged from the sanctuary, carefully balancing three glasses of ink, six candles, and a box of matches in his arms. One of the ink glasses was only half full. 

 

“Thank you for keeping an eye on her, darling.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, even though his mouth was stained again. There was probably an inky kiss mark on your forehead now. 

 

Ruth fell into disbelief, and glanced between the two of you a few times. “You… you’re with him? Like, in more than a romantic way?” 

 

You didn’t answer. Even though she already knew, you didn’t want to crush her by admitting to being present during her kidnapping. It would’ve been too much. 

 

Ruth threw curse after curse, and insult after insult at the both of you while Sammy set up and lit all six of the candles. Thankfully, he handed the half full glass to you, then picked up one of the full ones and crouched down dangerously close to Ruth’s face. 

 

“Poor little sheep,” He put the glass against her lips, “It’s nothing personal.” He forced her mouth open. “Normally, I don’t go after co-workers, but…” The glass was a quarter empty. “I am training a new prophet.” Half empty. “It was only for convenience that we chose you.” Three quarters empty. “If only Wally were still here, but we can’t always get what we want.” The glass was empty, and her mouth was stained black. She coughed and sputtered for a moment, trying to lean forward and accommodate the new pain in her abdomen. You knew exactly what she was feeling. 

 

_ “Hear us, Bendy! Arise from the darkness!” _ Sammy picked up the remaining glass, and clinked it against yours, then took a swig. Hesitantly, you did the same.  _ “Arise and claim our offering!”  _ Even though he had a full glass and you only had half, the two of you finished at about the same time. Even if half a glass wasn’t as harsh as a full one, you still felt fairly uncomfortable. Perhaps it would pass quicker this time.  _ “We summon you, ink demon. Show your face and take this tender sheep, our offering!” _

 

The lights in the room started going haywire. Sammy wrapped his arms around you for support, and despite the situation, the act warmed you up just a smidge. Almost like you weren’t sacrificing one of your co-workers to the cartoon that you drew all day. 

 

The candles melted away until they were just piles of wax, and surprisingly, Ruth began to do the same.  You expected her to catch fire, or perhaps just disappear. You wouldn’t have been too surprised if Bendy himself had shown and eaten her soul right in front of you. But instead, she screamed. She screamed and melted into a puddle of ink. No trace of her clothing, organs, blood, or anything. Just ink.  _ Why did everything have to be ink?  _

 

Sammy’s breathing was labored, and for a moment, he held you much tighter than he had been. But then he let you go, and walked a full circle around the Ruth puddle. “That, my darling, is how we appease our lord. Now, see if you can find Wally’s keys. We need to clean this up before the band arrives tomorrow. Oh, and you’re welcome to another morphine cube, they’re in my office.” 

 


End file.
